ch it _lived_ and worked
in her. Nor of this effect could she be conscious.

As to dreams or repinings, or even listening to her hopes and fears for
her project of pleasure, they were excluded by the concentrated attention
that Miss Fennimore's system enforced. Time and capacity were so much on
the stretch, that the habit of doing _what_ she was doing, and nothing
else, had become second nature to the docile and duteous girl; and she
had become little sensible to interruptions; so she went on with her
German, her Greek, and her algebra, scarcely hearing the repetitions of
the lessons, or the counting as Miss Fennimore presided over Maria's
practice, a bit of drudgery detested by the governess, but necessarily
persevered in, for Maria loved music, and had just voice and ear
sufficient to render this single accomplishment not hopeless, but a
certain want of power of sustained effort made her always break down at
the moment she seemed to be doing best. Former governesses had lost
patience, but Miss Fennimore had early given up the case, and never
scolded her for her failures; she made her attempt less, and she was
improving more, and shedding fewer tears than under any former dynasty.
Even a stern dominion is better for the subjects than an uncertain and
weak one; regularity gives a sense of reliance; and constant occupation
leaves so little time for being naughty, that Bertha herself was getting
into training, and on the present day her lessons were exemplary, always
with a view to the promised walk with her brother, one of the greatest
pleasures ever enjoyed by the denizens of the west wing.

Phoebe's pleasure was less certain, and less dependent on her merits, yet
it invigorated her efforts to do all she had to do with all her might,
even into the statement of the pros and cons of customs and free-trade,
which she was required to produce as her morning's exercise. In the
midst, her ear detected the sound of wheels, and her heart throbbed in
the conviction that it was Miss Charlecote's pony carriage; nay, she
found her pen had indited 'Robin would be so glad,' instead of 'revenue
to the government,' and while scratching the words out beyond all
legibility, she blamed herself for betraying such want of self-command.

No summons came, no tidings, the wheels went away; her heart sank, and
her spirit revolted against an unfeeling, unutterably wearisome
captivity; but it was only a moment's fluttering against the bars, t